


After Godric's Hollow

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Fill in Scene, Gen, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Spoilers, Malfoy Family Feels, Post-Godric's Hollow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: When they get back from Godric’s Hollow Draco and Scorpius have a lot of things to talk about. This is the first time they’ve really talked in over a year after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by brief_and_dreamy.

They stumble out of time into a dark night. They're in the same village they just left, but a couple of extra street lamps light more familiar, modern cars, and beside the ruined house in front of them a large group of people gather, standing in vigil, candles flickering in the chill breeze. None of them notice the seven strangers who have just appeared out of thin air behind them. They're too absorbed in their prayers of thanks to look up, heads bowed, silent.

Harry makes a choking sound when he sees them and turns away, pulling Albus with him. They're still clinging to each other, like if they let go it might create an irreparable void between them.

"I think we all ought to go home," Hermione says. She's holding Ron's hand. "I should probably report to Minerva that everything's okay, but-"

"In the morning," Ron says, and she looks at him and nods.

"Thank you all for coming," Ginny says, looking around. "And staying. That was above and beyond the call of duty." 

"No it wasn't," Draco says quietly. 

Scorpius glances up at his dad. He looks dishevelled, a way Scorpius has never been able to describe him before. His hair is coming loose from its bonds and his face is tear stained. But still he remains perfectly upright, at least now everyone is looking at him. Earlier- Scorpius will never forget earlier. 

The flashes of green he saw from the edge of his vision. Turning away from them, hiding his face in his dad's robes like a small child, hadn't been enough. And the screams and shouts. Lily begging for Harry's life. Voldemort's laughter. There was no turning away from that. The only thing making it bearable was his dad's arms around him, holding him tight, keeping him standing. Maybe they were both keeping each other standing. Draco had been shaking, inconsolable. At first Scorpius had been confused to feel warm wet in his hair, until he realised it was his dad's tears. 

Draco isn't crying anymore, but he hasn't let go of Scorpius. Now his hand is locked on his shoulder. Not painful, or restrictive, but ever present and firm. Scorpius is glad to have it there. 

"Perhaps we'll have to agree to disagree on that one," Ginny says with a shaky smile. "This isn't the night for arguments."

"No," Draco says.

"Goodnight doesn't quite seem the right word," Ginny says. "I dare say we'll see you all soon. I hope we do... Be safe." For a moment she lingers, then she walks away to join her husband and son, wrapping her arms around them both. For a moment the three stand there together as a unit, then they turn away and are gone. 

Scorpius watches them disappear, watches Albus disappear. It feels strange to be without his best friend after everything that's happened, but of course Albus needs to be with his parents. And Scorpius needs to be with his dad.

"Let's go home, Scorpius," Draco says quietly, audible only to the two of them. Scorpius nods and steps into the crushing blackness with him.

They reappear in the kitchen at home. The fire has burned down to embers in the grate and casts a warm, red glow over everything. The chairs have been jumbled around, there are papers on the table, a couple of crumpled tissues, a half-eaten meal. Draco waves his wand at the mess and it cleans itself up immediately, all the signs of his suffering over the past few days erased in one motion, but not before Scorpius saw.

He looks up into his dad's face and there's so much to say but he doesn't know where to begin. So many thoughts, too many thoughts, about everything, and he feels so tired.

"I think we have things to discuss," Draco says. "But not tonight... Did you sleep? While you were away?"

Scorpius shakes his head. He'd been too a-buzz with everything on the train, and the ground in Godric's Hollow was freezing. He'd had perhaps two hours of futile, restless shivering, but that was all.

"No," Draco says. "I didn't sleep much either..."

"Tomorrow," Scorpius says, looking up at him, desperately searching his eyes. "We'll talk then? There are things..." He needs to know that in the morning this won't just be a dream. That things won't just go back to the way they were before. That the hug meant something. The idea that all of it could just melt away makes him feel sick. 

"I know," his dad says, soft, eyes tired, but more open than Scorpius has ever seen him before. 

"Dad. Please." It sounds tiny and broken, and like he's about to start crying again, not that there are any tears left at this point. 

"I promise, Scorpius." 

Scorpius collapses in on himself with relief. He hugs himself and bows his head, hair falling in front of his eyes. If he wasn't already wrung dry there would be tears falling, but all he has instead is a headache, and an exhausted dry sob. 

His dad's arms go round him again, and Scorpius desperately hugs him back. Every bit of contact after this year long drought feels like new life, sustaining, and growing, and Scorpius craves every bit of it. 

"Sleep," Draco says eventually. A command, a gentle one, and Scorpius is glad for it. He's too tired to think for himself. "I will be here in the morning."

And Scorpius believes him, so he goes up to bed and falls asleep. Thankfully he's too exhausted to think anymore, or to dream, so when he next wakes up he's bathed in golden Autumn sunlight and he can smell bacon cooking somewhere in the distance. 

Last night already feels so distant. He can remember flashes of it, but it's like it happened to someone else, not him, or maybe like he saw it in a photograph. 

They watched Lily and James die. They saw Voldemort in person. They saved the world. 

He drags himself out of bed. The bacon smells good, and he's so desperately hungry. He hasn't eaten in... a long time. At least a day. So he pads down to the kitchen where he finds his dad waiting for him, and oh yes. They need to talk. 

Scorpius rubs his eyes sleepily. "Dad?"

Draco looks up at him and smiles. A tired smile. There are dark circles under his eyes, worse than usual. "You're finally awake then. I'm glad. Did you sleep well?"

Scorpius nods. "Yes. Um, thank you. Did you? Sleep? At all?" 

"As long as you slept well that's all that matters," Draco says, and he turns away again, back to the bacon cooking on the stove.

"Dad..." Scorpius says, concerned. 

"You don't need to worry about me, Scorpius," he says without looking round.

A chill floods through Scorpius. He had been dead on his feet last night, but he still remembers his dad promising they would talk. He'd  _promised_. And they're not doing this anymore. They can't. 

He gathers himself together, the way he's learned to over the last few days, straightens his back, and faces his dad across the kitchen. "Telling me not to worry won't stop me." 

Very slowly Draco looks up and turns to face him. "Do you? Worry about me?"

Scorpius nods, tugging at the hem of his sweater. "All the time." 

Draco frowns. "It isn't your job to worry about me, Scorpius. It's supposed to be the other way around." 

Scorpius shrugs and sits down at the table, avoiding his dad's eyes. "Well, this is the way it seems to be."

Draco pauses, then steps forward and leans a hand against the back of the seat opposite Scorpius's. He looks down at him. "I am your father. It's my job to deal with the problems, so you can enjoy being young. It's something I rather wish I'd had the chance to do myself."

"I suppose being a Death Eater wasn't much fun," Scorpius says sullenly, pulling the cuffs of his sweater over his hands and hunching in on himself.

"Scorpius..." Draco says, a little dangerous. 

"You know this is why I don't talk to you?" Scorpius mutters. "Why I  _can't_  talk to you."

"Because I was a Death Eater?"

"No. I-I mean yes. Partly..." Scorpius looks down at the table. He's studied the grain of this wood a thousand times while he's been avoiding his dad's eyes, and this time doesn't feel any different. It needs to feel different. After everything that happened last night, over the past few days. Isn't something so cataclysmic supposed to change everything?

There's a click of the stove being turned off, then a scrape of wood on the stone floor. When Scorpius looks up his dad is sitting opposite him, a steely determination in his eyes. 

"I have done a great many regretful things in my life. There were things that happened under duress that I-" he tightens his hands into fists, then flattens them out on the table. "There is no excuse. And there is certainly no excuse for you feeling unable to talk to me. I'm not sure what I can do to rectify that."

Scorpius turns his hands over and inspects his fingernails, then he wraps his arms around himself and looks up at his dad. "I couldn't talk to you because... I suppose yes, because of what you did. And then mum died..." He swallows and runs his nails over the polished but still bumpy surface. "There was a lot I didn't say. To anyone. Maybe I should have told you. But you had other problems and-and you didn't need that. And even if I'd tried to talk to you-" he knocks his knuckles against the table, struggling. They aren't supposed to fight, not today. "Mum, she told me about the good things you did. When I was in the other world, the one with Voldemort, I-I told you about how she said you were a better man than I could see, and I think she might have been right. I-I just didn't realise in time." 

He looks up at his dad. "You're not a bad person. Not in this world. Not anymore at least... The world changes, and we change with it." He pauses for a moment, spreads his fingers out, takes another breath. "I-I think you changed. You stood by Harry last night. You volunteered to lure Delphi. You... cried when Lily died. I've never seen you cry before."

Draco looks down at his hands. "She reminded me of your mother. The way she shone. Harry Potter's mother, and she was so beautiful."

"She reminded me of mum too," Scorpius says quietly, watching him. There's a bit of sunlight creeping through the kitchen window, casting long shadows across his dad's pale face. "We sat outside the house and watched her. We watched all of them. But-but she... She talked to him. Harry. He would crawl around and she would tell him about things. She sat there and explained the fire guard to him, because he wouldn't stop banging it. Mum used to do that with me. Sit with me and tell me things." 

"She was very patient," Draco says, looking up.

Scorpius smiles. "She never got annoyed when I only wanted to talk about one thing for days on end..."

"We were very lucky to have her, even for a short time."

Scorpius nods. He runs his fingers over a bumpy knot in the wood. It has a nice texture, a little bit rough, undulating. "You know I still miss her? Even though it's been more than a year. A year is forever."

"It's not so long," Draco says with a sigh. "And you're healing. It takes time." 

"I suppose a year is like seconds to you," Scorpius says, glancing up and pulling his hand back. He can't stop a grin spreading across his face. "You're ancient, dad."

Draco's lips tighten like he's desperately restraining a smile. "I think you should show a little respect, Scorpius."

"It's not disrespectful, it's true!" Scorpius insists, laughing.

Draco's smile blossoms, and Scorpius's heart soars. How long has it been since he saw his dad smile? Since he made him smile? Almost too long to remember. 

"I missed you," he says. He doesn't know why, but it feels true, and it just kind of slips out there, into the ether. Draco stops smiling and looks at him, expression shifting into something else a little sad.

"Losing your mother was like a light going out," Draco says quietly. 

"She was your light in the darkness," Scorpius says. "The other you told me that."

"Yes." Draco swallows. He folds his arms on the table and leans forward a little. "It's very easy to lose your way without that. But I believe, in the last few days, I have found the light again. And I don't intend to lose it." Draco looks directly at Scorpius, who finds himself unable to look away. "There were moments, many of them, when I feared you dead, Scorpius. And when you became trapped in the past... I would have turned time upside down to find you, I want you to know that. You are the only family I have left, and your value to me is..." He shakes his head. "Losing you is an idea I refuse to consider."

Scorpius finally finds the power to pull his gaze away, and he looks down at the table, overwhelmed. "I thought I was a disappointment to you. I know I'm not what you wanted; not a leader or-or popular, or any of that... Although I am brave." He looks up quickly. "That was what I wanted to tell you most when I was in the past. That sometimes I can be brave."

"Scorpius..." Draco trails off, looking at a loss for words. 

Scorpius ploughs on, not giving his dad a second to think of anything critical to say about that. Not giving him time to disagree. "I-I know I'm not going to further the Malfoy name or-or make social connections, or anything useful like that. I know I'm a loser. But I saved the world, dad. Technically I saved the world twice, actually... And I was terrified the whole time, but I still did it. So-so I know you're surprised to know that I'm brave, sometimes it surprises me too, but that's what I am. Apparently."

For a long moment Draco just looks at him, like he's trying to find the words. Scorpius almost wants to keep talking, because he's not entirely sure what's coming. But before he can start off again, Draco takes a breath. "I was quite aware of your capacity for bravery," he says quietly. "I see it every day... And you have never been a disappointment to me. A constant surprise perhaps, just like your mother, but you are who you are, no matter anyone's opinion. That is a quality to be proud of."

"Do you think?" Scorpius asks, quiet, with a slight tone of wonder.

Draco nods. 

Scorpius sits there for a minute, processing, a little smile on his face, bouncing in his seat just a tiny bit. He's not sure he's ever felt so warm or flooded with happiness before. His dad thinks he has qualities to be proud of. It's like a sudden rush of validation, and he has the overwhelming urge to throw himself across the kitchen and hug his dad again. If only the table wasn't in the way.

"Dad?" He says eventually. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. And I'm sorry I got trapped in time and you had to come and rescue me. In fact I think I'm quite sorry for a lot of things..."

"I, too, have a lot to apologise for," Draco says, meeting his eyes. 

Scorpius nods. "Maybe we should both say sorry then, and move on? And, oh, I think we should hug more. That would make things better too. You hugging me was the best thing about Godric's Hollow. Apart from Bathilda Bagshot..." Scorpius leans forward in his seat, excitement flooding through him just at the memory of it. "Did I tell you we met Bathilda Bagshot? I mean... We didn't exactly meet her, but we saw her. And we broke into her house and stole her potions ingredients. It was brilliant. She has all these books, books I've never seen. You could learn everything ever about history if you had time to sit in her house for a few days. I think that's what I would have done if you hadn't come to save us. Made friends with Bathilda Bagshot and tried to learn everything about history... Albus wouldn't have enjoyed it, but..."

It's like the flood gates have opened. They've talked, Scorpius has said what he wanted to say, and now it's utter relief. The past is behind them, is history, and there's a brighter future stretching ahead of them. And right now Scorpius just wants to fill it with chatter, because there's so much to say. He's still happily talking about Bathilda's books when Draco gets to his feet, walks round the table, and hugs him again. 

Scorpius cuts off mid-sentence, shocked. "Um." 

"Yes," Draco says. "We can hug more. If that's what you'd like."

Scorpius looks up at him, stunned. He might have forgotten how to breathe. "Okay." 

"Would you like some breakfast?" Draco asks, smiling again.

For a long moment Scorpius can do nothing but stare at him, then finally he wraps his arms tightly round his dad. It feels like nothing he's ever felt before. He's allowed to hug his dad. His dad is proud of him. His dad said sorry to him. Scorpius said sorry too. They've talked about things. It's like being in a strange but glorious dream, except it's reality. 

Scorpius looks up at his dad, shining with happiness, and nods. 

For this, everything that's happened in the last few weeks might have been worth it. 


End file.
